Chinese-Mexican showgirl Lyn May starred in almost a hundred films, captivating both presidents and viewers. Known as “The Goddess of Love,” her life abruptly changed in the early 1990s when a regular Botox session went horribly wrong, permanently changing the way she looked.
Lyn’s early years were difficult. She was born in Acapulco, Mexico, in 1952 as Lilia Guadalupe Mendiola Mayares. Selling mementos to tourists helped her family financially. Later, she worked as a waitress, where she met the American sailor who was thirty years her older and became her first love. After relocating to Mexico City and having two daughters, the couple’s relationship ended when Lyn accused him of abuse.
Lyn started her dancing career in Acapulco after getting divorced. Television producers were immediately drawn to her distinctive approach, which resulted in appearances on the hit program *Siempre en Domingo*. After she gained notoriety, she was approached by Enrique Lombardini, who extended an invitation for her to participate in burlesque productions at Teatro Esperanza Iris. After initially being apprehensive, Lyn gradually came to love the burlesque look, which made her famous in the Ficheras films of the 1970s and 1980s and earned her the title “Lyn May: The Goddess of Love.” But Lyn’s notoriety declined along with the box office success of these movies.
Reminding everyone of her timeless appeal, Lyn May triumphantly returned to the spotlight in the late 1990s, making appearances in music videos, TV shows, and documentaries. Her public character may have been audacious, but her private life was tragic. In 1989, following her divorce from her first husband, Lyn wed businessman Antonio Chi Su. Together, the couple founded a Chinese restaurant, but their joy was short-lived as Chi Su died in 2008 from prostate cancer. In a surprising admission made in an open interview, Lyn later acknowledged to exhuming her husband’s body and slept next to it while she struggled to deal with her loss.
Lyn May’s life has been full of audacious claims and contentious deeds, such as her assertion that she had an affair with a previous Mexican president, but she never revealed who he was. She wed film producer Guillermo Calderón Stell in 2008, and they remained together until his passing in 2018.
When Lyn revealed she was expecting her 68-year-old fiancé, Markos D1, at the age of 29, in 2021, she grabbed headlines once more. Many people were skeptical of the news and expressed a great deal of curiosity, with many doubting its veracity. Later on, it came to light that the revelation of her pregnancy was a PR ploy to highlight her impending farewell tour.
Lyn May has faced difficulties in her quest for beauty. An attempt at a cosmetic operation early in her career to improve her facial features went horribly wrong. Instead of injecting collagen, a con artist gave her cooking oil injections, which left her face covered in ugly lumps. The fact that the damage was not completely healed after several surgeries served as a constant reminder of her pursuit of perfection.
Even in modern times, Lyn May is still regarded as a fascinating and resilient person. Her narrative is one of not just fame and beauty but also of personal hardship and the will to follow her own path.
I Burned My Face in a Fire and My Husband Dumped Me, Years Later, I Accidentally Ran into Him And He Was Shocked
I thought my husband and I would be together forever, but when the fire happened, everything changed. While I was left physically scarred, he revealed his true colors, and I never imagined that I would end up getting the last laugh.
It was a chilly fall evening when the fire started. I still remember the scent of wood smoke lingering in the air, mixed with the distant sounds of children playing. That night, everything changed in an instant, leaving scars that went far deeper than the surface.
The house we rented had an old, unreliable furnace. I had mentioned to my husband, Evan, several times that we should have it checked, but he always brushed me off. That was typical of Evan—he always assumed he knew better, especially as he studied to become a doctor. My concerns were dismissed as if they were trivial.
That night, eight years ago, I lit a few candles to add warmth to our home. The power had been flickering, and I wanted to create a cozy atmosphere. I was lost in a book, holding a mug of tea, feeling content despite the wind rattling the windows. But then, I smelled something burning.
I looked up and saw it—the fire. It had started from the faulty furnace and was spreading fast, climbing the walls like a living thing. In my panic, I knocked over the candles, which only fueled the flames. Within moments, the entire living room was ablaze.
I ran to grab the fire extinguisher, but it was too late. The fire had consumed everything in its path. I screamed for Evan, who was upstairs studying. He rushed down, and for the first time, I saw real fear in his eyes.
“Get out!” he shouted, but I was frozen in place, struggling to operate the extinguisher. Before I knew it, a beam from the ceiling crashed down, pinning me to the floor. The heat was unbearable, and my skin blistered from the flames.
Evan pulled me out just in time, dragging me across the floor and out into the yard. I was in shock, barely able to comprehend what had just happened. The sound of sirens echoed in the distance, but all I could focus on was the excruciating pain that tore through my body.
I was rushed to the hospital, where I spent days in a haze of surgeries and painkillers. When I finally woke up, I was wrapped in bandages, my face and body covered. Evan sat by my bedside, pale and trembling as he held my hand.
But when the doctors removed my bandages, his reaction said it all. His eyes filled with horror as he struggled to find the words. “I… I don’t know how to…” he stammered. I wanted to reassure him, to tell him it would be okay, but I didn’t have the strength.
I could feel the distance growing between us, like a chasm neither of us could cross. When I was discharged, Evan hired a nurse to care for me while the house was being repaired. He kept his distance, and although I hoped we could rebuild our life together, I didn’t expect what came next.
The very next morning, Evan packed his bags and left. He didn’t even have the decency to say it to my face—he sent me a cold, heartless message that read, “I can’t be with someone like this.”
Evan, the man I had loved and trusted, couldn’t handle the way I looked. I was devastated, crushed by his betrayal. I thought his rejection would break me, but instead, it became the catalyst for my transformation.
For weeks, I focused on my recovery. I endured countless surgeries and therapy sessions, working to heal both the physical and emotional wounds. The doctors did their best, but I knew I would never look the same again. When I finally looked in the mirror, the woman staring back was a stranger.
Re-entering the world, I braced myself for the looks of pity and disgust from others. It was a daily battle to rebuild my confidence and sense of self. But that’s when I met Jim.
Jim was different from Evan in every way. He was kind, steady, and sincere. We met at a support group for burn survivors, and although I was hesitant at first, we quickly formed a connection. As a doctor, Jim had worked with trauma patients, and he never flinched when he saw my scars. Instead, he saw me.
With Jim’s support, I underwent additional surgeries, but this time it wasn’t about trying to look like my old self—it was about feeling comfortable in my own skin again. Jim loved me for who I was, and he made sure I knew it every day. Slowly but surely, I began to see the beauty in myself once again.
Eventually, Jim and I fell in love, and we got married. I had found happiness again—something I never thought possible after the fire.
Fast forward to last Saturday, Jim and I were celebrating his promotion at a fancy restaurant with his colleagues. Everything was going perfectly until I saw him… Evan. He was standing across the room, chatting with one of Jim’s coworkers. I felt a wave of shock wash over me. For a moment, I was transported back to that painful time in my life.
Evan walked over to congratulate Jim, and when he glanced at me, he gave me a flirtatious smile. “You’re lucky,” he said to Jim. “You’ve got a beautiful wife.”
I smiled back, but my heart was racing. Evan didn’t recognize me.
Later that evening, I was set to give a speech in honor of Jim. As I stood there with the microphone in hand, I looked at Evan, who was completely unaware of who I was. I decided to seize the moment.
I spoke about my journey—from the fire to my recovery—and how I had been abandoned by my ex-husband when I needed him the most. I glanced at Evan as I spoke, and I watched as the realization hit him. His face turned pale as he connected the dots.
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Without naming names, I had told the whole room about Evan’s betrayal. He left in a hurry, clearly shaken by my story. Jim, who hadn’t known about my past with Evan, was furious when I told him later that night. But I stopped him from confronting Evan.
“It’s not worth it,” I said. “He’s already living with the consequences of his choices.”
A few months later, Jim noticed that Evan had been underperforming at work. His poor attitude and lack of compassion had caught up with him, and he was eventually let go. It was poetic justice, seeing Evan face the repercussions of his own actions.
In the end, I realized that everything I went through led me to where I was meant to be. I had found a love that was true and built a life I was proud of. The scars that once brought me pain had become a symbol of my strength.
Life has a way of bringing things full circle, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
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